


Of Flesh and Stone

by vedekbareil



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angsty gays, Dwarf Courting, How do you even romance, It's more like Thorin lives than everybody lives, Lots of confusion surrounding emotions, M/M, Post BoFA, i like angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vedekbareil/pseuds/vedekbareil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons aren't Thorin's only problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Flesh and Stone

What little light came from the candle that had almost burnt down to its wick had begun to fade. It was very nearly the first light of dawn, and Thorin hadn’t left the library in at least a day. The desk around him was littered with practically every book containing a single mention of courtship rituals. There had to be something he was missing, anything at all. He was getting desperate. He rubbed a hand across his face, the lines of text blurring into one another. He seemed to have been staring at it for so long that he could barely distinguish between the spaces, let alone the words.

The recovery process had so far been a long and arduous journey -not to mention a painful one- but the great King under the mountain had slowly begun to feel a little more like himself. The bruising and the lacerations had faded into triumphant battle scars that lined his chest now, and he wore them with all the pride a man whose gait fell on one side when he walked could manage. Two braids had joined the outfit, making him look rather more like a fearsome warrior than a man who had attempted to have his beloved thrown from the ramparts (failing that, the highest tower he could find). He had accused his friends and loved ones of heinous acts of treason towards the kingdom, spurred by a haze of gold. Still, he held himself like the once and future King should. 

The Kingdom of Erebor was slowly healing with him, as if the patchwork of gauze and wire had been laid down not only over his own skin, but over the cracked fabric of a kingdom that had, for so long been plagued by the same sickness as he. The haze of smoke had blown from the mountain as the dwarves opened their gates to those in need. Thorin hoped that perhaps he could redeem himself by offering what he could to those who came to the gates seeking help. For now, at least, the gold was safely sealed away in the caverns deep beneath their feet, and far, far away from the King, and the Dragon sickness ebbed away into something a little less formidable. The wounds were being allowed to heal without having salt rubbed raw into the flesh that surrounded them.

However, another problem had arisen in the wake of the Dragon’s destruction. This problem namely came in the shape of the tiny bugler that hid in their midst. Thorin had tried to treat him with nothing but the utmost respect since he figured out that Bilbo may well be his One. It was no less than you'd expect from a potential suitor, after all. He had gotten into the habit of returning from hunts with feathers and other tokens of his affection, and it did appear that Bilbo had been accepting them all too readily, if not with a small frown. He had even gone so far as to butt his forehead against Bilbo's in traditional greeting the first time he returned from an outing, a big grin spread across his features, yet he was still greeted by nothing but silence. Thorin couldn't figure out why his attempts to further their relationship weren't being reciprocated, especially when he was being so very open about his intentions.

It was safe to say no one was surprised when they stumbled across the King, face down on a large, leather bound volume categorically containing every known piece of information the dwarves knew about these quaint little creatures. His crown lay discarded haphazardly on the stack of books next to him, and the small candle had long since burnt out. Fili found it difficult not to laugh, seeing his Uncle in such a pitiful state of undress, his furs strewn across the work surface. He picked up one of the books, thumbing the ancient pages until he finally found the page Thorin had dog-eared. Interesting indeed. The King stirred only a little as he was shaken firmly by the shoulder.

“Now, Uncle, you really should come for breakfast, or at least find somewhere sensible if you’re going to nap. People have been asking after you,” He grinned, strolling back and forth as he read the passage. He cleared his throat. “These men and women seem to have very odd views on courtship, and relationships in general,”  
Thorin sat up, and he seized the opportunity to embarrass him even further.   
“They marry young, and can have fused a strong, lasting relationships within a matter of hours’. This is interesting stuff, isn’t it?”  
Very near growling, Thorin snatched the book from his relative, his cheeks a gaudy shade of red. He hoped it wasn’t obvious, but unfortunately, his embarrassment had a habit of spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.  
“Give me that. It’s none of your business,”  
“Shall we be calling him Queen?”  
“You absolutely shall not be,” Thorin scoffed.

As usual, his reaction elicited only a smirk from his well knowing nephew, who tapped the side of his nose and whispered something akin to ‘The secret’s safe with me’. Thorin had no doubt that it would be, if he had been reading about elves. He groaned, his hand finding its usual groove in the nape of his neck. Perhaps the throbbing pain at the top of his spine would teach him to sleep in public places. He gathered his things, leaving the librarian to pack away the books, and no doubt make his assumptions.

Slipping out into the hallway, it appeared Thorin had forgotten how bright it would be in comparison to the dimly lit library. The walls were practically lined with gold, the pathways, too. They almost gave off their own source of light. The archivists had assured him that books were better kept in the dark. The great library, with its cavernous, towering ceilings, had been practically untouched by the beast, but even so, years of settled dust and exposure to light had made them fragile, by all accounts.

The halls were quiet enough, and it gave him ample chance to sneak into the dining hall without being noticed. Or so he thought. Bilbo was the first to approach, a scowl plastered across his face. He had grown especially brash and bold in recent months, perhaps a result of spending too much time in the company of these great brutes, speaking of whom, it didn’t escape his notice that Dwalin had decided throwing food across the hall was appropriate. Thorin was taken by surprise when the firm heel of the Hobbit’s hand collided with the back of his head. He was left stunned, that much was certain. He blinked, looking down at Bilbo.  
“Nice of you to show up at last, your majesty. Finally gracing us with your presence,”  
Thorin would have had a clever, witty retort, in any other circumstance, but he had an unfortunate habit of crumbling under Bilbo’s glare.   
“I’ve been busy,” He retorted, and almost instantly regretted his decision to do so. The Hobbit’s face fell slightly on one side, and Thorin could have sworn he heard his heart crack into several thousand tiny pieces. But the moment didn’t last long. Bilbo was far too proud for that.   
“Well, it’s good to know you have your priorities sorted out,” He turned on his heel, and stormed off in the other direction, muttering, “As much as we’ve been through.”

Meeting Fili’s curious glance from the other side of the table, Thorin merely shrugged, and did his best to let it fall from his shoulders. Bilbo’s feelings should have been the least of his worries, what with an upcoming visit from Mirkwood’s so called ‘diplomatic envoy’, but of course, they were still at the forefront of his mind. He eased himself into his seat, and waved away all offers of food. He would spend no more time thinking on courtship when he had a kingdom to oversee.

 


End file.
